Let them be as they wish, and they will create you something beautiful. Beauty that you in your dark-glass dreams had never cared to imagine. They shall show you rage, to break down the formidable walls of smoke that you build to keep yourselves in from being better. They shall show you who we are, they shall fill your cities with colour and your industry with motion and your world with a rich vibrant beauty.
Don’t let them, and they shall recoil. Recoil from the world they could have created, recoil into a dark little hole where they are out of touch with what they can do, too afraid, too disbelieving of themselves. And they shall struggle to reconcile their self-appraisal with the one that you have decreed for them, and they shall die. They shall die and get sticky and stinky and clog to the arteries of your city until it becomes for everyone else hard to breathe.
And then you’ll be in trouble. So don’t do it.